Mia the Magnificent (8 page)

“Only if you promise to keep all visuals to yourself from now on,” I said, sitting back down. Chris sat down beside me. “Because it’s going to take years of therapy to erase that picture from my brain, and I don’t know if Mom and Dad’s insurance covers electroshock treatments.”

“Mia,” Chris whined, “don’t you understand how desperate I am for advice? I’m asking you what to do!”

“OK, I’ll tell you, but you’re not going to like it.”

“What else is new?” Chris said. “I never like anything you say. So will you just get on with it already?”

I patted his knee. “You’re going to have to tell Gina the truth.”

“Aw, man.” Chris dropped his head into his hands. “Do I have to?”

“If you want her to forgive you, then yes.”

“So, if I tell her the truth,” Chris said, looking up at me with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, “do you think she’ll take me back?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it.”

“Huh?” Chris said.

“She might accept your apology, but take it from me—when you lose someone’s trust, it’s almost impossible to get it back.”

“Man, I should’ve known better than to ask advice from the Duchess of Doom,” Chris said, quickly departing the couch and stomping out of the room. “You’re about as optimistic as a weatherman calling for sunshine while holding an umbrella.”

“All right, people, it’s time to get started,” Mrs. Ingram announced the following Monday, clapping her hands. “Let’s make some magic! Take it from the top of act two, scene four.”

Nestling into my auditorium chair, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my English essay, grateful for all the time I had to edit it before I had to get on stage with the rest of the townspeople during scene seven.

“Mia!” Mrs. Ingram called from the stage. “Can you come up here, dear? I need you to stand in for Katrina tonight.”

I looked up at her. “Katrina’s not here? I thought she was never sick.”

“She’s not sick—I excused her from rehearsal so she could attend her great-grandmother’s ninetieth birthday party,” Mrs. Ingram said. “So can you please hurry and get up here so you can run lines with Jake? We have a busy night ahead of us.”

Warily setting down my unedited paper, I grabbed my script. I knew I should have skipped play practice tonight to get caught up on my school assignments. I’d even called Lisa and told her I would have to stay home with a terminal case of kakorrhaphiophobia, but she’d told me a fear of failure wasn’t a legitimate excuse to miss rehearsal, and if I didn’t show up, she was going to make me drink a beet and bean sprout smoothie.

As soon as I got up on stage, Mrs. Ingram said, “We’ll take it from the top of the scene all the way to the kiss at the end.”

I dropped my script. “What kiss?”

“After Marian sings ‘Till There Was You,’ she kisses Harold Hill.” Mrs. Ingram quickly added, “But I think we’ll skip the song tonight, since Katrina isn’t here. No use straining your vocal chords.”

Forget vocal chords—I was more worried about injury to my tongue. It had taken me a year to get over the feel of Jake’s frenzied kissing. Now I was going to have to face the human wet-vac again. I didn’t know if I could handle another round of dodging the drool.

“Can’t I just look meaningfully at him?” I asked as I desperately scanned the auditorium for Lisa in hopes she would save me. Not seeing her anywhere, I decided I had to save myself because there was no way I was going to end up soaked in Jake’s saliva again. “I mean, I’m not going to be Marian in the real play. I think it’d be better if you waited until Katrina was here to practice any kissing.”

“But Katrina is not here and you are,” Mrs. Ingram said impatiently, “and I really don’t have time for this. I need to block this scene and you are Katrina’s understudy, so please take your mark.”

“Yeah, dude,” Jake said, “what’s the big deal? It’s not like you ain’t never zoomed in on me before.”

Mrs. Ingram looked back and forth between Jake and me, and then said, in a dubious tone, “You two have a history together?”

“Yeah, Mia was my breezy last year. She used to scam on me whenever she got the chance,” Jake said. “I bet she’s just scared ’cuz if she gets another taste of my Kool-Aid, she’ll remember what she’s been missin’.”

Considering that Jake’s Kool-Aid consisted of 99.9 percent spit, I knew I would never be tempted to try it again, but being desperate, I decided to play along. “Mrs. Ingram, Jake’s right,” I said. “It took me a long time to get over him, and if I kissed him tonight, I might never be able to move on. So, for the sake of my future relationships, I really don’t think—”

“Mia,” Mrs. Ingram said with a sigh, “I don’t know, nor do I want to know, the details of your love life. All I know is that I need
to block this scene and that includes a kiss between Marian and Harold. And I’m fairly certain one theater kiss won’t harm you. So take your mark and start saying your lines, or I will be forced to take disciplinary action in regard to your lack of cooperation. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” I mumbled as I picked up my script, thinking I had to be the only person in the entire world who would get detention for
not
kissing someone at school. I should’ve taken Lisa up on the beet and bean sprout smoothie.

I took my mark and then, much too soon, we were at the end of the scene. “Now, I need to see the kiss,” Mrs. Ingram said, “so I can tell if the blocking is right.”

I looked at Jake and tried to convince myself this wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, it was just one kiss. Jake wouldn’t dare do anything inappropriate in front of all these people. I should just get it over with. It’d be like ripping off a band-aid or getting a tooth pulled—but much messier.

Taking a deep breath for courage, I leaned in closer to Jake. He immediately shoved his tongue into my mouth while groping my backside.

“Jake!” Mrs. Ingram shouted. “What are you doing? Harold Hill would never kiss Marian the librarian like that!”

“Why not?” Jake said with a shrug. “Doesn’t he think she’s fly?”

“Well, yes, he
likes
her, but he isn’t going to kiss her like that,” Mrs. Ingram answered. “Their kiss is supposed to be romantic. Now, try again.”

Again?!
I already had a bucket of saliva in my mouth. If we kissed again, I might drown. “Mrs. Ingram,” I begged, “I really don’t think we need to—”

“But I do,” Mrs. Ingram replied sternly. “I need to make sure the kiss is going to be properly lighted and blocked. So please try it again.”

I stepped forward and pursed my lips together so hard, the tiniest
fly wouldn’t have been able to get through. But Jake, obviously some kind of wizard, was still able to sneak his tongue through my lips and ram it back into my mouth. I lunged away from him and exclaimed, “Mrs. Ingram! Make him stop!”

“Honestly, Jake,” Mrs. Ingram said, marching over to us, “I need to see an innocent kiss. Why don’t you imagine that you’re standing where you first kissed a girl and take it from there?”

“You want me to pretend I’m behind a Pizza Hut by a bunch of dumpsters?”

“OK.” Mrs. Ingram paused. “Let’s forget that idea. Just focus on the innocence of your first kiss and we’ll try it again.”

Jake closed his eyes in concentration and leaned over to me. I warily moved closer to him, keeping my eyes wide open. The second our lips connected, Jake’s tongue once again darted into my mouth.

Prying my lips off his, I wiped away the spit as Mrs. Ingram cried, “Jake, I told you to imagine your first kiss!”

“I did,” Jake said. “Cassie and me were by the dumpsters and—”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Tim said, suddenly appearing from behind the set, “but I was backstage working and couldn’t help overhearing what was going on out here.”

Oh, great. Like this night hadn’t been humiliating enough.

Mrs. Ingram tapped her foot impatiently. “So, what can I help you with, Tim?”

“Actually, I think I can help you,” Tim said, setting down his hammer and walking over to us.

Mrs. Ingram replied skeptically, “With what?”

“I can show Jake how to kiss.”

“No way, dude,” Jake said, stepping back. “I ain’t kissin’ no guy.”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” Tim said. “I’m going to kiss Mia.”

“Nice try,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “But there’s no way Mrs. Ingram is ever going to let you—”

Mrs. Ingram held up her hand. “At this point, I’ll try anything. We
only have a few weeks to pull this show together, and someone has to model a stage kiss for Jake. So, Mia, either I kiss you to demonstrate the technique, or you let Tim kiss you. Your choice.”

My head rotated between my two options. What kind of choice was that? Ultimately, deciding to go with the person with the least amount of facial hair, I sighed. “Fine, I’ll kiss Tim.”

Grinning, Tim pushed Jake aside and took his spot on stage. He raised his eyebrows up and down and whispered to me, “Are you ready for this?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I swear, if you try anything, I’ll slap the taste right out of your mouth.”

“That sounds like a dare I might take you up on,” Tim said with a smile.

“That’s enough whispering, you two,” Mrs. Ingram said. “Let’s get going, so we can move on to the next scene.”

Tim rotated his head around his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and began running in place.

I stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“All great athletes get loosened up before they compete,” Tim explained.

“This is not a competition. It’s a kiss.”

“Hey,” Tim said, “for me, kissing is an Olympic sport. And as you’re well aware, I’m the reigning champion in all events involving lip action.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can we just get on with this?”

“A little eager, huh?” Tim asked. “I can’t blame you. Once you’ve kissed the best, it’s hard not to want more.”

I turned toward Mrs. Ingram. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather kiss you.”

“Too late,” Tim said, abruptly sweeping me into his arms.

The kiss took my breath away and explosions went off inside my head. As much as I hated to admit it, Tim was right—he was the gold medalist of kissing. Feeling as if I was entering some sort of kissing
trance, I instinctively moved in closer.

Tim’s arms wrapped around my waist and I pressed my body against his. As our lips continued their re-acquaintance, Mrs. Ingram exclaimed, “Yes! That’s it! Do it exactly like that, Jake!”

The sound of Mrs. Ingram’s voice woke me from my semi-hypnotic state like a bucketful of ice water, and I immediately jumped out of Tim’s arms. As the room came crashing back into focus, I steadied myself so I wouldn’t come crashing down.

“OK, Mia,” Mrs. Ingram said as Tim gave me one last grin before strutting offstage. “I need to see you and Jake kiss just like that.” She paused. “But maybe with a little less passion.”

Definitely needing a little break—not to mention a cold shower—before I was forced into yet another kiss, I cleared my throat and said, “Um, Mrs. Ingram, would it be all right if I get a quick drink of water first?”

“I suppose,” Mrs. Ingram said with a frown, “but hurry. We have a lot of scenes to get through tonight.”

Praying I would be able to make it to the drinking fountain on my legs of Jell-O, I headed offstage under the very watchful and wary eyes of Alyssa and Cassie.

Lisa helped herself to a spoonful of my famous chocolate chip cookie dough and said, “I absolutely cannot believe that Cassie is president of our sophomore student council this year. You should have seen how she ran the meeting today.”

“Stop that.” I slapped her hand away as she dug in for another scoop. “I thought you were on a health kick.”

“I’m too upset to eat healthy,” Lisa said, licking her spoon and laying her head on the counter.

“Wow,” my mom said, removing a head of lettuce from the refrigerator. “I’ve never seen you like this, Lisa. What’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Fullerton,” Lisa said, the side of her face still pressed against the top of our counter, “but it’s not just one thing. It’s everything. Cassie’s ruining our student government, the play is a mess, Mr. Juarez won’t let me do my project for the science fair because he deemed it potentially hazardous to the human race, I discovered a flaw in an algorithm of one of my mathematical heroes, and to top it all off, it still hurt when I saw Mike and Mandy holding hands today! I have to do my equation all over again!”